


Try Not to Hurt Yourself

by claireandelide



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Dadko/Momtara, Established Relationship, F/M, Gen, Mr. and Mrs. Ryuku-Kuruk; please and thank you, Parent AU, Zutara, modern au with atla universe elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:54:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22787113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claireandelide/pseuds/claireandelide
Summary: Katara and Zuko have their reservations about the private school they're sending their kids to. But the Ryuku family has a lot of status in Caldera City. They want their kids to go to school and not stick out and for Katara and Zuko to not have to watch their words or actions to avoid being seen as abusing their influence.When Fire Sages Academy calls the Ryuku-Kuruks in for a conference about Kya's "behavior," the gloves are off.Inspired by the tumblr post "“Oh… It’s not me you should be worried about… It’s my WIFE.“ *smirks*"
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 209





	Try Not to Hurt Yourself

**Author's Note:**

  * For [babyfairy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/babyfairy/gifts).

> Happy birthday Destiny! Hope you enjoy this quick fic <33
> 
> inspired by [this post](https://thegirlinthefandom.tumblr.com/post/148339280684/my-kinds-of-ships-are-the-ships-where-the-men-know)
> 
> Song title from Beyonce's "Don't Hurt Yourself"

The move to Caldera City was less than ideal.

It was the last possible thing Zuko wanted to do after graduating high school and finding life outside the Fire Nation.

But Iroh had been like a father to him. And when Iroh asked Zuko to be interim CEO and oversee business until a new one was selected following Iroh’s retirement, the least Zuko could do was honor his wishes.

The kids said they were fine. Kya and Iroh II (affectionately called Ni) were fighters, from genes they inherited from both sides of their family tree. Like water they adapted and like fire they charted their own path.

It didn’t mean Katara and Zuko weren’t prepared for the tipping point.

Moving from Ba Sing Se to Caldera City was an adjustment. They went from a mosaic of browns and beiges to a homogenous pot. Having supportive parents and an excited-to-see-their-grandkids grandma and great-uncle helped.

But life happens.

When Kya’s school called in the middle of the day asking both parents to come pick Kya up, everything was put on hold.

The nice thing about running your uncle’s company was knowing the “family first” values weren’t only for display.

Zuko pulled the key out of his car’s ignition and responded to Katara’s text.

[[zuko: just parked. see you soon.]]

In all fairness, Zuko and Katara had their reservations about the school.

Fire Sages Academy: Equipping Tomorrow’s Leaders.

An elite school serving the city’s most prominent families.

Katara wanted the kids to keep attending public school. She wanted them to have a relatable experience and to stay as grounded as possible.

As the daughter of Uqsuaqtuq Bay’s mayor, she knew how important it was to know and stay connected to a diversity of backgrounds.

And Zuko, the alum of Fire Sages Academy, agreed.

But his family had so much weight in Caldera City and FSA knew how to handle high profile families. Administrators knew how to deal with parents and shepherd children and protect them from paparazzi and other predators.

_“In addition to shielding the kids from any enemies my father or sister may have created, we don’t have to play with kid gloves on at Fire Sages. They know when a parent is throwing a tantrum versus starting a battle. We would have to walk on eggshells at the public schools here Tara. At least at Fire Sages, we don’t have to pull punches.”_

For a while, it seemed like they’d made the right choice.

Zuko navigated his way to the principal’s office.

Kya sat in the lobby of the administrative wing. Through the glass above her head, he could see other desks and offices.

“Kya.”

Sitting up straight, she looked at him. Nearly Katara’s twin when she was fourteen, her dark eyes were the only striking difference.

“_Are you okay?_” Zuko asked in Inuktitut. They wanted their biracial children to know both of their ancestors’ tongues. And in a city where everyone was fluent in Japanese, Inuktitut was their secret code.

Kya snorted. “_Mom asked the same thing. I’m fine._”

“_What happen—“_

“Mr. Ryuku!” An older woman startled as she walked into the small lobby. “We didn’t expect to see you. Let me tell Principal Nakahara.” She hurried back inside.

“_Liar._”

“Kya!”

“It’s true! _Mom told them you were coming. They think I can’t hear them but they’ve been trying to speed things up so they wouldn’t have to deal with you_.”

A divot formed on Zuko’s forehead. “_Me?_”

“_Something about how you were as a student or how you press teachers in parent-teacher conferences that makes them nervous. Like you’re unpredictable or…like…_”

“_Volatile,”_ he crossed his arms. A word he’d heard enough times at Fire Sages.

“_Yea, I couldn’t think of the word in Inuktitut._”

“_And you’re sure—“_

“Mr. Ryuku, right this way.”

Before following the older woman, he nodded at Kya. She nodded back.

The fidgeting of the receptionist was one thing. The number of staff watching him walk by was another.

The walls were made of eyes.

_When do you think the Ryuku kid is going to burst?_

Letting go of a breath he’d been holding, Zuko reminded himself, _Whatever. You’re here for your daughter. Let’s stay present, Zuko._ _Let’s provide support to our daughter and reduce the trauma she experiences here._

The receptionist opened the door for him.

“Mr. Ryuku, Principal Nakahara.”

“It’s Ryuku-Kuruk. I didn’t get a chance to corr— say so earlier.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” she mumbled before closing the door behind him.

“Mr. Ryuku, have a s—“

“Ryuku-Kuruk,” he leaned over kissing Katara’s forehead.

She didn’t move.

“R-right. Have a seat, please. I’ve already told your wife about the incident and the school has a pretty clear policy about being disruptive in the classroom.”

“Kya disrupted class?” Zuku’s eyes grew before his earlier expression of confusion returned. “That doesn’t sound like her at all.”

‘Well, there were several eyewitnesses and she doesn’t dispute the account. So—“

‘Why don’t you tell my husband what happened, Principal Nakahara.” Katara stood up, “Excuse me while you do. I’ll be right back.”

The shift in Katara’s career was the most notable _visible_ change since moving to Caldera City. In Ba Sing Se, she served as a Councilwoman’s Chief of Staff. Katara was always in a pantsuit or sheath dress and sensible pumps.

Now, as a stay at home mom-slash-charity board of directors member, her wardrobe was far more relaxed. Sweaters and slacks, sundresses. It fooled people who assumed she was weaker than she looked.

_If Katara’s taking a lap, this is bad._

After signaling for the principal to begin, Zuko folded his hands.

The principal cleared his throat. “L-like I said, Kya disrupted class. The history class was talking about the Hundred Years War.”

Tension wound up Zuko’s jaw.

The Hundred Years’ War that the Fire Nation slowly waged on the other nations around it. It ended when he and Katara were teenagers but reconciliation efforts were still needed between the four countries.

Katara and Zuko had had conversations with Kya and Ni about the war, especially because the children’s forefathers fought on opposite sides.

Zuko realized and understood the sins of his people. But not everyone had.

“The teacher says Kya raised her hand and accused him of burying facts.” The principal chuckled.

A scowl took root on Zuko’s face.

“When he asked her to mind her manners, she refused to stop talking. It made other students uncomfortable and Kya stood up on her chair at one point. Clearly, you can see how a teacher might have difficulty keeping the class in line after a stunt like that.”

Zuko’s phone vibrated. “Excuse me,” he mumbled.

[[katara: stall]]

“As I said before,” Nakahara continued, “we have a no tolerance policy on—“

“Was he burying the facts?”

“Excuse me?”

“Was the teacher’s lecture on the Hundred Years’ War one-sided?”

Chuckling, Principal Nakahara shifted, “I don’t see why that matters.”

“Is this the account Kya gave?”

“She admitted she disrupted the class and that’s all w—“

“Did you ask her why?"

“Honestly, Mr. Ryuku—“

Zuko crossed his arms leaning back.

“—we hope this won’t be a big fuss. Like I told your wife, this is Kya’s first offense. So we won’t need to take any action that would appear on her permanent record. We’re simply asking for her to apologize to the class and to write a formal apology to Mr. Katsura.”

“An apology?”

“M-Mr. Ryuku, we wouldn’t want to anger you.”

Zuko raised an eyebrow. “Come again.”

The principal cleared his throat. “N-now, see here. This is a pretty lax punishment considering we would want other students to respect their teachers. Principal Nakahara tapped a student handbook as if to make his point.

Zuko took the book and flipped through it. “What page is that policy on?”

Nakahara stammered. “I don’t recall.”

The occasional turn of the page filled the silence.

“So, there’s no policy?”

“I never sa—“

“Well, I don’t see it here.” Zuko closed the book.

“Let’s be rational. No need to let emotions cloud your judgment. Everyone thinks their child is perfect. No need for any t-temper.”

“You’re concerned about me? I think a teacher trying to silence my daughter’s concerns about a war that claimed the life of her grandmother is plenty reason to be angry. The fact that you won’t say what the teacher said or Kya said is pretty suspect. You don’t know where this policy is.” Zuko crossed his arms. “But you shouldn’t be worried about me, and quite frankly I’m livid. You should be worried about my wife.”

The door opened behind him.

“Did you fill Mr. Ryuku-Kuruk in?“

“He did.” Zuko pulled the chair out for Katara.

“Splendid,” she sat down, squeezing his hand to thank him. Opening the textbook in her hand, Katara flipped to the page where she had a bookmark. “Principal Nakahara,” she looked at him, “how would you describe the Fire Nation’s relationship with the Earth Kingdom during the Hundred Years’ War?”

“Well, the Earth Kingdom was colonized.”

“Huh,” she looked at the textbook, “here, the textbook for high school sophomores said they were ‘business arrangements between the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom.’ That’s strange.” She turned to another page. “What about the Massacre at the Southern Air Temple? Were those war crimes or a rare epidemic?”

“War crimes.”

“Hmm,” Katara read. “‘Unfortunately, an unknown illness spread affecting the entire monastery. There were no survivors.’” She pinned the principalwith a stare. “When I was in school, they taught us the Fire Nation had the monks face firing squads.”

“W-well.”

“I think,” Katara closed the textbook, “you have a bigger problem on your hands than a student bruising a teacher’s ego. While I can’t say I’ve made up my mind because I haven’t discussed this with my husband, I’m _strongly_ considering pulling our children out of Fire Sages Academy. I want to raise my children to be responsible global citizens and that requires them to know an accurate historical account. Zuko, do you have anything to add?”

“No. I think we have a lot to discuss.”

Nodding, Katara turned back to Principal Nakahara. “In that case.”

“N-no, now. Let’s not be hasty—“

“Hasty?” Katara frowned. “_You_ called us in for a conference about a disrupted class.”

“You can’t tell us what our daughter said, which suggests this was done without gathering the appropriate evidence,” Zuko said.

“We discussed all we could at this moment.” Katara stood up.

“Why are we paying these teachers to teach if they can’t control their students?”

“P-please—“

“I think we’ve heard enough,” Zuko stood. “Let’s go, dear.”

“I’ve already sent for Iroh. Let’s pick up the kids. Mr. Nakahara, good day.”

Principal Nakahara continued to call for them but they didn’t stop.

Ni sat next to his sister. His tawny skin was a couple shades lighter than his sister. He had his father’s chin and his mother’s blue eyes.

“Time to roll,” Katara handed the textbook back to Kya.

“What’s happening?”

“Mrs. Ryuku-Kuruk.”

“Mr. Nakahara, we’ll be in touch. Don’t worry.”

“C’mon kids.” Zuko beckoned his head.

Kya frowned but stood anyway. Crossing her arms, she led the way.

Ni took his mother’s hand, excited to get out of school early.

“Want to grab lunch?” Zuko asked in the elevator to the ground floor.

“Can we go to Bandit’s Keep?” Ni bounced on his toes.

“Hmm. How about we see if your cousins are free to go next weekend, sweetie?”

“Ok.”

“What’s going on?” Kya asked again.

“You’re not in trouble,” Katara said.

“Not with us anyway.”

“Your dad and I have to talk about what we’re gonna do.”

“But, you did the right thing,” Zuko looped his arm around her shoulders.

“We’re so proud of you.”

“I mean I only did it because I know you guys have my back.” She wrapped an arm around her dad as they walked out.

“Always love,” Katara said immediately. She hummed, “How about that place that does Earth style street food?”

“Yes, I’ve been craving cabbage rolls!” Kya said.

“Ok, it’s settled.”

“Don’t you have work, Dad?”

“I’ll go back this afternoon. You know I always have time for family.”

Kya nodded against her dad. “Can I ride with you?”

“Sure,” he handed her the car keys.

“Ni, why don’t you go buckle yourself in?” Katara unlocked the door for him.

They watched their kids get in their cars.

Katara sighed.

“Long time, Madam Prosecutor.”

She scoffed, “We almost made it a year with no issues.”

“There were issues.”

Groaning, she nodded her head. “Let’s talk about it later. I was serious about considering pulling them out.”

“If you want to, let’s do it. It’s gonna cause a splash but we gave enough lip service. It might be the bad publicity they need.” Zuko crossed his arms.

Katara snorted. “As if you care about prestigious Fire Sages Academy’s reputation. I wouldn’t bat an eye if they closed.”

“Kid gloves completely off, huh?”

“Completely,” she laughed.

“We raised some pretty impressive kids, huh, Mrs. Ryuku-Kuruk.”

“We sure did, Mr. Ryuku-Kuruk.”

**Author's Note:**

> Uqsuaqtuq means calm seas in the South Qikiqtaaluk dialect of Inuktitut
> 
> Ni means two in Japanese
> 
> This may or may not be a reflection of my time at a private school.


End file.
